Twinkles gave Gil’s arm a pat. “Time travel has a tendency to do that. Its unexpected whimsy makes strange things happen every day.” Suddenly, she jolted. “What time is it?”
“A bit after 2:00,” Gil replied.
“Be exact, dear. What time exactly?”
“It’s 2:11 p.m.,” Gil said, peering at the clock.
“More exact.”
Gil looked at her strangely. “It is 2:11 p.m. and thirty-two seconds.”
“Ahh,” said Twinkles. “Excuse me, I have something to do.”
As the old woman hurried out of the room, Gil helped herself to another brownie. “How ’bout we swim two extra laps? These are really yummy.”
“I know something even yummier,” Dan murmured, crooking his finger suggestively, beckoning her to come closer.
“Who’s the flirt now?” She laughed, quirking an eyebrow.
As Dan motioned again—more instantly this time—her eyes gleamed. Slowly, she leaned toward him and hovered with her lips a scant inch apart from his. Dan stared at her lips. She heard his breath beginning to catch. Seeing the effect she was having on him, she whispered in a low, sultry voice, “Not yet. Wait until I finish my brownie.”
Blinking rapidly, Dan threw back his head and laughed. “You little tease! Life with you is never gonna be dull, is it?”
Gil’s eyes twinkled. Running a deliberately provocative finger over his lips, she murmured, “Peace is overrated.”
Pulling her close, Dan chuckled. “Honey, you can say that again.”
* * *
Fifteen minutes later, Twinkles emerged from the study and went to the living room to find Sam. He was sitting on the couch with Sue, listening to Danny’s singing lesson.
“Sam,” Twinkles said, “I left my book in the rental truck. Can you get it for me?”
Sam rose to his feet. “Sure, where’s the truck?”
“In the barn. You’re sure you don’t mind?”
“Why would I? I’m glad to help.”
As Sam moved to the door, Twinkles tugged on his sleeve. “Speaking of help, I was playing Bible Trivia with Poppa and two questions stumped us. What does 1 Corinthians 16:13 say?”
Sam thought for a moment. “Be on your guard; stand firm in the faith; be men of courage; be strong.” He smiled. “What was the other question?”
“How did the Israelites tell the King of Edom they’d travel on the road?”
“They said they’d turn neither to the right nor to left.”
Twinkles tilted her head to one side. “You know, even though those verses are talking about different things there’s a lesson if you take them together.”
“How so?” Sam asked, opening the door.
“Standing firm and not going right or left is good advice for our spiritual life and sometimes for our physical life as well. Don’t you agree?”
“I suppose so,” Sam replied.
“Take it from an old time traveler, applying those words to your life will keep you safe. Now, go get my book like a good boy. I’ll give you a brownie when you get back.”
Giving Twinkles’s cheek a lightning-fast kiss, Sam went out the door.
Twinkles walked quickly to Gil’s bedroom where Dan was tucking Gil back in bed. Peeking around the door, Twinkles said, “Dan, can I borrow you for a moment?”
“Sure,” Dan replied, kissing Gil’s forehead.
“Do you have to go?” Gil asked, grabbing his hand.
“I won’t be gone for long,” he replied, combing her bangs with his fingers. “And when I get back, maybe we can practice some more.”
Gil’s eyes twinkled. “I think I could squeeze it into my schedule.”
As Dan left the room, his grin faded. Looking at Twinkles, he asked quietly, “Is it time?”
She nodded and handed him a black box. “Sam’s on his way to the barn.”
“Watch after Gil for me,” Dan said, clipping the box to his belt. “And whatever you do, don’t let her out of the house.”
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
Whistling happily, Sam walked down a grassy lane toward the barn. He was smiling to himself as he thought about Sue. She was an incredible woman and he couldn’t wait to marry her. His grin grew. Actually, he didn’t want to wait to marry her. If she’d agree, he’d like to be married in a few weeks’ time. The gossips would talk, but he simply didn’t care. What he cared about was getting his new family under his roof and starting their life together.
Joyously kicking a stone and sending it cartwheeling down the path, he continued to plan. He’d ask Danny to be his best man—it’d please the boy to pieces, and Nathan would understand. As he kicked the stone again, he chuckled. Zara was gonna flip about the wedding. He was sure she’d bake the wedding cake. He hoped so. He loved her buttercream frosting.
Sending the stone sailing, he began to plan the perfect honeymoon. His thoughts became so absorbed he hardly noticed reaching the barn. Sighing at the interruption of his daydreams, he swung open the barn door and looked at the rental truck parked inside. It was bigger than he’d expected. Obviously Poppa and Twinkles had bought more furniture than they were admitting.
Entering the cool shade of the barn, he caught a whiff of dusty hay and sneezed. Making his way through dim shadows, he opened the truck’s passenger-side door and found a biblical concordance resting on a coil of rope. Wondering if the concordance was Twinkles’s idea of light reading, he slung it awkwardly beneath his arm. Feeling it slip, he clutched it against his chest.
Suddenly, Sam heard a loud noise and felt a heavy blow striking his chest. Crashing back against the truck, he groaned and tried to catch his breath. Blinking against the pain, he looked down and saw a gaping hole in the concordance. His mind felt paralyzed as he realized that he was looking at a bullet hole. The bullet was embedded in the book.
As he spun around and peered through the darkness, an eerie voice hissed, “Missed you, did I? Well, this one won’t miss.”
“Who’s there?” Sam shouted, squaring his shoulders despite the pain.
“Who do you think?” Stepping out of the shadows, Rick raised his gun. “I’m gonna enjoy shutting up your psalm-singing mouth for good.”
* * *
Inside the house, Sue was listening drowsily as Danny and Poppa sang. As a gunshot rang through the air, she jumped violently. Sick with fear for Sam’s safety, she ran toward the door.
* * *
Watching as Rick raised his gun, Sam remembered Twinkles’s words: Stand firm; don’t go right or left. Knowing their talk couldn’t be a coincidence, he stood his ground.
“All right, preacher,” Rick said venomously, “let’s see if you can be a dog groveling on the ground.”
Sam didn’t answer. Looking into Rick’s hate-filled eyes, he remained motionless.
“Did you hear me? Grovel! Beg for your life.” As Sam stood still, Rick began to curse. Droplets of spit flew from his mouth. “You’re a dog! A cur! Get down and beg!”
When Sam didn’t reply, Rick shot his gun wildly. The bullet shattered the truck’s windshield, spraying Sam with glass.
“Beg!”
Rick shot again, this time at the dirt in front of Sam’s feet. Sam didn’t move. He regarded Rick steadily and stood firm.
* * *
Bolting out of her bedroom, Gil narrowly missed crashing into Sue. She ran frantically to the front door, but Twinkles was blocking it. As she and Sue tried to get past, Poppa moved swiftly to his wife’s side, barricading the door even further.
“Let me through!” Sue shouted. “Sam’s out there!”
“I think the doc is too!” Gil cried. “I’ve got to go find him.”
“Ladies,” Poppa said calmly, “what’s going on is out of your hands.”
“Let me by,” Sue demanded.
Twinkles shook her head. “If you go out there, you’ll just mess things up. Sit down and have a brownie.”
Gil tried to push past Poppa, but he laid a restraining hand on her arm.
“Poppa, please, I gotta go!”
He firmly shook his head. “Would you change anything that happened on D-day, seeing the results it brought?”
“No,” she said, trying to pull away, “but what’s that got to do with anything?”
“Dr. Ableman feels the same way about what’s going on right now. Like Twinkles said, go have a brownie. You and Sue can’t do anything but wait.”
* * *
Inside the barn, Rick sent a bullet sailing past Sam’s arm. “Beg!”
Sam flinched, but refused to speak.
“Beg!” Rick shot at the air next to Sam’s head.
Hearing the bullet as it whistled past his ear, Sam held absolutely still.
“If you won’t beg then it’s time to die. I’ll give your regards to Sue. I’ll bet she’ll beg.”
Sam’s eyes blazed, but remembering Twinkles’s words, he remained motionless.
“What? No fancy speech? I thought you loved to hear yourself talk.” Rick raised his gun and aimed it at Sam’s heart. “Any last words?”
With half-formed prayers running through his mind, Sam stared at the gun and tried to prepare himself for what was about to happen. He pictured Sue’s face, wanting it to be the last thing he remembered.
As Rick pulled the trigger, Sam saw his arm jerking to the left. The bullet flew astray and hit a bale of hay. Rick pulled the trigger again. His arm jerked right. The bullet flew wide and hit a wall.
Sam saw Rick narrowing his eyes. Looking sideways at an empty patch of air, Rick lunged and grabbed at something invisible. Holding onto it, he purred, “So the little ghost has come back to play. Naughty! Naughty!”
Suddenly, as if a switch had been flipped, Dr. Ableman appeared. “Wrong!” he growled. “It’s the little ghost’s boyfriend!”
Sam watched in shock as Dr. Ableman twisted free and punched Rick with a brutal blow. As Rick fell back, Dr. Ableman kicked the gun from his hand, sending it spinning through the air toward the door.
Snarling with uncontrollable rage, Rick lunged. Dr. Ableman stepped to one side, and using Rick’s momentum against him, threw him against the wall. As Rick spun around, Dr. Ableman threw three fierce blows in rapid succession—each sending Rick reeling across the floor. As Sam watched with dazed eyes, Dr. Ableman leapt in the air with a jumping spin-hook kick that sent Rick crashing to the ground.
Scrambling to his knees, Rick grabbed a handful of dirt and threw it into Dr. Ableman’s eyes. As Dr. Ableman pawed at his face, trying to clear his vision, Rick rolled to his feet and looked for his gun. Realizing that Dr. Ableman was in danger, Sam sprang forward. All of the minister’s pent-up rage broke free as he gave a powerful round-house kick to Rick’s belly. As the blow connected, Rick hit the side of the barn with enough force that the wood split and a bottle of horse medicine fell off a shelf and shattered.
Arming himself with the broken bottle, Rick rushed toward the men. As Sam kicked the bottle out of Rick’s hand, Dr. Ableman leapt up with a jumping spin-hook kick to the side of Rick’s face. The blow flipped Rick off his feet. He wallowed in the dirt and groaned.
“Have you had enough?” Sam asked.
Wiping a trail of blood from his mouth, Rick swore harshly. “Think you’re better than me? You’re nothing! Nothing!”
Rick jumped to his feet and tossed dirt at Sam’s eyes. As Sam raised his arm to protect his face, Dr. Ableman jumped up in a flying round-house kick that broke Rick’s nose. Sam followed up with a punch to Rick’s stomach. Rick flopped against the wall and coughed blood.
As Rick dove toward the door, Dr. Ableman caught him by the collar. Putting him in a chokehold, he hissed, “You hurt the women we love. Now we’re going to hurt you!”
As Rick clawed desperately at Dr. Ableman’s arm, Sam stepped forward. “How many women have you tortured in the dark?” Sam’s eyes blazed. “Did you enjoy hurting Sue? Did you?”
With an iron blow, Sam punched Rick’s stomach. Rick doubled over. Dr. Ableman grabbed his hair and held him up. As Sam threw several vicious punches, Dr. Ableman snarled in Rick’s ear, “Are you afraid? You should be.”
Rick groaned and vomited. Dr. Ableman tossed him to the ground. Rick lay for a moment in his own filth and then struggled to his knees. Dr. Ableman slowly circled him.
“I’ve had enough,” Rick moaned. “Let me go.”
“You didn’t let Gil go. You almost killed her.” With tremendous venom, Dr. Ableman kicked Rick in the face. Rick flopped over and lay still. Dr. Ableman started to kick him again, but Sam put a restraining hand on his shoulder and raised Rick’s head by the hair.
“He’s out?” Dr. Ableman asked.
“Like a light,” Sam replied, letting Rick’s head fall limply in the dirt.
Dr. Ableman grumbled and nudged Rick’s motionless body with his shoe. “I wanted to hit him some more and threaten him some more—maybe make him cry or wet himself.”
“Me too,” Sam admitted with a rueful chuckle.
Dr. Ableman looked down at Rick and said slowly, as if tasting the words, “I’d like to kill him.”
“So would I, but there’s a big difference between subduing a man for the authorities and committing murder.”
“Subduing him for the authorities? Is that what we were doing?”
Sam’s lips twitched. “Well, that and administering a justified beating, both of which are a far cry from murder.”
“I suppose so.” Dr. Ableman nudged Rick’s body again. “Besides, after all she went through, Gil would never forgive me if I killed him.”
“Sue wouldn’t like me to become a murderer either. And I’m not about to mess things up with her.”
Dr. Ableman backed toward the truck and leaned against its hood. As he closed his fists and inspected his bleeding knuckles, Sam commented, “Those were some great martial arts kicks you landed.”
“I’m glad you liked them,” Dr. Ableman replied. “You taught them to me.”
“I wondered about our last names being the same,” Sam said, fingering a cut on his jaw. “Are you some relative I haven’t met yet?”
“Never mind, it’s complicated. I’ll explain later.”
Sam looked over at Rick’s body. “We should tie him up and phone the police.”
“Are you sure we can’t just hit him over the head and drop him down a convenient well?”
“Quite sure,” Sam replied, “but I’ll probably fantasize about that scenario for years—if you’ll forgive the impropriety of a pastor admitting to murderous thoughts.”
A grin tugged at Dr. Ableman’s mouth. “I have no right to throw stones.” His grin faded, and his voice lowered. “When I think about what he did to Gil and Sue, I want to—”
“I know,” Sam said, interrupting quietly, “but we’ve gone far enough. We need to let the authorities take it from here. There’s rope in the truck. We should tie him up while we have the chance.” Sam opened the door with a yank. “Besides, it’s better this way. Rick’s gonna fry and there’ll be deep-down justice in Danny knowing he’s on death row.”
“I suppose so.”
“I’m glad you got here when you did,” Sam said, picking up the rope. “I thought for sure I was gonna get shot. I don’t understand why I didn’t see you at first.”
“Never mind, I’ll explain later.” Dr. Ableman pointed at the blood on Sam’s face. “Did any of the bullets graze you? If they did, Sue will have our hides.”
Sam shook his head. “I got cut by flying glass. It’s no big deal.”
Suddenly, Sam saw movement out of the corner of his eye. Without wasting a moment, he dove at Dr. Ableman and pushed him to the ground. A shot rang out and a bullet lodged in the side of the truck. Mentally kicking himself for not securing the gun, Sam stared at the doorway where Rick was pointing his weapon at them.
“Think you got the best of me?” Rick growled. Swearing in a heated rage, he aimed his gun and started to squeeze the trigger.
“This is the police,” a voi
ce shouted from outside. “Drop your weapon!”
With a wild curse, Rick swung around and opened fire. As a hail of bullets filled the air, Sam grabbed Dr. Ableman’s arm and pulled him beneath the truck. “Did you call the police?” he asked.
Dr. Ableman shook his head and ducked as a bullet ricocheted off the bumper.
Feeling a protectiveness he didn’t understand, Sam reached over and covered Dr. Ableman’s head with his arm.
“I’m okay,” Dr. Ableman said. “Protect yourself.”
“Be still and stay covered,” Sam shouted, trying to be heard over the gunfire.
Rick’s head swung toward them. He locked eyes with Sam. A bullet grazed Rick’s arm. He swore and shot toward the door. Sam’s heart lurched as Rick rushed at him.
“If I’m going down,” Rick snarled, “you’re going with me!”
Bracing himself, Sam tried to cover more of Dr. Ableman’s body with his own. He saw Nathan and Chief Rogers rushing into the barn.
“Drop your weapon!” Nathan shouted. “Do it now!”
Rick shoved his gun in Sam’s face. “Time to say goodbye, preacher.”
Suddenly, there was an explosion of sound. A bullet ripped through the side of Rick’s head, spraying Sam’s face with blood. In silent slow motion, Rick’s legs buckled beneath him. His eyes still locked with Sam’s, Rick fell to the ground. Blood gushed in a torrent over Sam’s hand and pooled in a dark puddle.
Sam felt numb. Beside him, Dr. Ableman was moving frantically. It took Sam a moment to realize he was patting him down, looking for wounds.
“I’m all right,” Sam said slowly, his voice sounding strange in his ringing ears. “You?”
“I’m good,” Dr. Ableman replied, his voice tense. “I can’t believe how close that was.”
“Sam!” Nathan yelled, sprinting across the floor. “Are you hurt?”
“I’m fine,” Sam replied, crawling out from under the truck—the knees of his jeans getting soaked in blood. “How did you know to come?”
“Someone named Twinkles called in a tip,” Nathan replied.
Sam nodded, staring down at Rick’s shattered head.
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